Chapter 4

~Lucien’s POV

“Why are you helping me when you do not even know me?”

Anwen's question caught me off guard. I was about to answer when she suddenly pushed the blanket aside and tried to get out of bed. Her face twisted in pain, but before I could stop her, she dropped to her knees in front of me.

“Please, Alpha Lucien, do not hand me over to Alpha Kael!” she cried, grabbing the edge of my shirt with trembling hands. “I promise I will not cause any trouble. I will leave your pack as soon as I am strong enough. Just please, do not send me back to him!”

I stared at her in shock. The wound in her chest was still healing, yet she was on her knees, begging me as if I were about to sentence her to death.

“Anwen, what are you doing?” I asked, quickly bending down to help her up. “You should not be out of bed. You could hurt yourself.”

“No!” She shook her head and held on to me even tighter. “Please, I am begging you. I do not want to go back there. I would rather die than return to that place!”

Her words struck something deep inside me. I had seen fear in the eyes of many people, but this was different. She was not simply afraid of being returned to her pack. She was terrified of the man who ruled it.

I gently placed my hands on her shoulders and helped her sit on the bed again.

“Anwen, look at me,” I said, waiting until her frightened eyes met mine. “Who hurt you so badly that you believe everyone wants to destroy you?”

Her lips trembled, but she said nothing. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she lowered her head.

For some reason, seeing her cry made my chest feel strangely tight. I did not know her story, but I knew one thing. No woman, especially one carrying a child, should have to beg for her life.

I gave her a small smile. “I will not hand you over to anyone,” I assured her, gently wiping a tear from her cheek. “You are in my pack now, and you will not be forced to return to anyone against your will. I only want you to recover. You have suffered enough.”

She searched my face as if she were trying to find a lie hidden in my words. When she found none, her shoulders slowly relaxed, although the fear in her eyes did not disappear completely.

Before I could say anything else, a knock sounded at the door.

“Come in,” I called, turning toward it.

A young maid entered, carrying a tray of food. She bowed her head respectfully before approaching us.

“Good evening, Your Majesty.”

I nodded toward the bed.

“Please, serve the food to Anwen. Make sure she eats well, and let the healers know if she needs anything.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” The maid placed the tray on the small table beside the bed and began arranging the dishes.

I turned back to Anwen, who was watching every movement in the room with cautious eyes.

“Please, eat something and get some rest,” I told her. “You need your strength for yourself and your baby. I will leave you to enjoy your meal, and you can call for the maid if you need anything.”

She gave a small nod, still seeming unsure of what to make of me.

I left the room and closed the door behind me. As I walked down the corridor, I could not stop thinking about her. There was something about Anwen that I could not explain, something that had troubled me since the moment I found her.

When I reached my chambers, I removed my shirt and sat on the edge of my bed, resting my elbows on my knees. Then the memory returned.

The full moon; the blood; the scream; the chaos.

For centuries, the curse placed upon my bloodline had turned our wolves against us during every full moon. When the moon reached its highest point, we lost control. We attacked ourselves, and some of us never remembered what we had done until we saw the bodies left behind.

But the night I found Anwen, something impossible had happened.

My wolf had been raging inside me, desperate to break free. I had heard the screams of my guards as others lost control, and my own claws had already torn through my skin.

Then my wolf caught a scent. It was a strange, unfamiliar scent coming from the shore.

I had followed it, expecting to find another victim. Instead, I found a heavily pregnant woman lying in the rain, her chest covered in blood.

The moment I approached her, my wolf went silent. It was not weak, not tired, but silent. For the first time in years, I had stood beneath a full moon without feeling the need to destroy everything around me.

I had been so shocked that I almost forgot the woman was dying. I carried her to the palace myself and ordered my healers to save her, even when they warned me that the wound was too severe.

I leaned back, staring at the ceiling as my thoughts raced. “Who are you, Anwen?”

I stood up and began pacing my room, running a hand through my hair as I tried to make sense of what had happened. I stopped pacing and stared at the window, where the moonlight spilled across the floor. My chest tightened as another thought crossed my mind.

What if I had met her years ago? Would things have been different?

I closed my eyes, but instead of finding peace, I was pulled back into the memory I had spent years trying to bury.

I could still hear the screams; I could still smell the blood, and I could still see the woman I had loved more than anything in the world, my Luna.

Her name was Isabelle. She had believed we could be saved, but I had failed her.

That night, the full moon had risen brighter than ever. I had locked myself inside a chamber deep beneath the palace. I remembered the pain tearing through my body, and the sound of my wolf demanding freedom.

I remembered nothing after that until I woke up the next morning, covered in blood, and Isabelle was lying on the floor beside me.

My knees nearly gave way as the memory struck me again. I pressed a hand against the wall and struggled to breathe.

"Isabelle," I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut.